Election Blues

When I first restarted my blog in February, I was looking forward to commenting on the 2020 presidential campaign.  I've long enjoyed national politics, and the Democratic primary didn't disappoint.  But since then, I've lost interest in details that usually consume me--emerging issues, polling data, party platforms, and candidate gaffes.

I think it's in part because this campaign follows the same script every week: some new Trumpian outrage followed by rebuttals from Democrats and pundits, who make the same arguments over and over again.  Permeating beneath this is a layer of fear: fear that Trump will rig the election, fear that he won't leave peacefully, and fear that minority rule will triumph again.

All reasonable fears.

What to do?  My neighbors and friends continue to ask how they can help.  People who never wrote letters or made phone calls now offer to do so.  Others who didn't consider themselves "political" put up yard signs and volunteer to work at the polls.  These actions matter.  And yet I can't help but feel like my country's unraveling.  Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg's death and the nomination of her successor highlight both a growing national divide and the hypocrisy in our government.

In the midst of all of this, I took comfort in the spontaneous protest that erupted this week, directed at Donald Trump as he viewed RBG's casket at the Supreme Court.  Gathered on the grounds nearby stood ordinary citizens who jeered and booed as he came into view.  Eventually their scorn coalesced into the chant "Vote him out," which Washington Post writer Monica Hesse called "astonishing, discombobulating, and more patriotic than anything you'll witness at a Trump rally."

Here was Trump, pretending to honor Justice Ginsburg, forced to face an outcry against him.  This almost never happens.  Wrapped in the cocoon of the White House, he ventures only to arenas where adulation is the norm.  On Thursday, though, for about one minute, he stood and heard the voice of protest.

This gave me hope.  Fellow citizens honoring our distinguished justice and, at the same time, calling out our unworthy president.  I may be feeling blue, but I also feel buoyed by my neighbors and the protestors in DC who showed themselves to be irrepressible.

The Power of One

How can the death of one person hold so much power in our democracy? Aren’t we supposed to be “We, the people”?

The loss of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg has set off a volatile, political battle. Less than twenty-four hours after her death, Republican senators were already speaking about her replacement. And though I revere Justice Ginsburg’s brilliance and accomplishments, I’m concerned that she holds this much power in our government, either alive or dead. Something’s broken when the absence of one person can wreak fundamental change across society.

A similar truth holds for Mitch McConnell. Though he’s still here, of course, he continues to block legislation, and at the height of hypocrisy, prevented a hearing for Supreme Court nominee Merrick Garland in March 2016 during Barack Obama’s second term. Now McConnell intends to seek Senate confirmation for Donald Trump’s nominee within six weeks of a presidential election.

What is broken must be repaired. 

When it comes to the Supreme Court, we must first dispel the myth that it’s our one non-partisan branch of government. We all know this isn’t true. The current fight over Justice Ginsburg’s seat is proof enough. We must then consider remedies to the Court’s composition. Russell Wheeler, a visiting fellow at the Brookings Institution, reviews options in his March 2020 essay, “Should we restructure the Supreme Court?” In it, he summarizes the three most frequently discussed ideas: adding seats to the Court (aka “packing the court”), increasing the size of the Court to 15, and imposing term limits for justices. 

Whatever changes are made, our courts must be structured in such a way to avoid current trends where, as Wheeler points out, four of our five conservative Supreme Court justices were nominated by presidents who lost the popular vote, and “senators who confirmed Justices Thomas, Gorsuch, and Kavanaugh represented less than half the population.”

McConnell’s ongoing reign is a related problem. As the Senate Majority Leader, McConnell holds the power to schedule or not schedule votes even when bi-partisan support for a bill is evident. He blocked votes on popular criminal justice reform in 2018, for example, and gun background-check legislation earlier this year. He seeks quick approval for Trump’s judicial nominees yet repeatedly held up Obama’s. His power, and Nancy Pelosi’s for that matter, should be scaled back.

The imbalances of power in our government are not sustainable, and the only way to make change is through the legislative branch. When our newly elected Congress convenes in January 2021, our representatives need to review and revise not only the structure of the Supreme Court, but the power in their own bodies as well. 

It behooves us to hold them accountable.

Gay Sera, Sera (Opus #2)

Yet another historic week for gay rights in America, for which my theme song is "Que Sera, Sera" or "Gay Sera, Sera."  Here's a new version to commemorate this week's hearings at the Supreme Court:

When the Court heard the marriage cases
Supporters rallied outside the hall
Colorful banners, humorous costumes
Just like a festive ball.

Gay sera, sera
Whatever will be will be,
The future's equality
Gay sera, sera.
What will be will be.

Seems that the usual strait-laced judges
Will rule the usual restrictive way
Creepy Scalia, cautious Alito,
Coke-drinking Clarence, too.

Gay sera, sera
Whatever will be will be,
The future's equality
Gay sera, sera.
What will be will be.

No matter what these judges do
Gay marriage is here and it will stay
Guys wearing black robes can't do much about
Who rolls with whom in hay.

Gay sera, sera
Whatever will be will be,
The future's equality
Gay sera, sera.
What will be will be.

Clarence Thomas Speaks

In the midst of an historic week in Washington--as President Obama took on gun violence and the NRA--came this unrelated nugget: Clarence Thomas was heard speaking during a Supreme Court session, breaking seven years of silence.  Imagine.  As one of our more bizarre public figures, Thomas gets his own song today.  Sing to the tune of "Three Blind Mice":

One mute judge,
One mute judge,
Finally talked,
Finally talked.
The other day he told a joke,
We all were shocked that he really spoke,
This guy who's known for drinking a Coke
Is one mute judge.

Wimbledon Wistfulness

There's something reassuring about Serena Williams and Roger Federer having won at Wimbledon this weekend.  Familiar people, masters of a sport they love and winning at the game on their own.

Rarely in public life do we watch individuals succeed through their own talents and hard work.  Think, in contrast, of the presidential election: so much of the outcome depends on fundraising and not on the merits of the candidates.  In fact, our entire political system--including the Supreme Court--is driven by moneyed interests and the influence they wield.  An individual's talents and hard work get lost in the quest for gold.

Other aspects of public life, too--from health care to the food and water supply to the economy itself--often depend less on the integrity of the individuals involved than on the corporate interests that drive decisions.  We can't reliably trust the medications we take, the procedures we undergo, the food we eat, and the water we drink.  Sounds like a third world country.

Maybe that's why we yearn for Wimbledon, a reminder of a more ordered world where personal accomplishment and individual skill actually matter.  Were it so in the rest of our lives.

Tennis, anyone?

Follow-Up Questions on Health Care

1. To Mitt Romney: What exactly isn't working in your Massachusetts plan and how would you change it?

2. To Barack Obama: Now that your legislation has been approved by the Supreme Court, can you and your staff please do a better job explaining its merits to the country?

3. To columnists Robert Reich and Linda Greenhouse: How did both of you know on Wednesday night--before the ruling had been announced--that the Supreme Court would uphold the law's constitutionality?

4. To Chief Justice John Roberts: Will we see now a new model of judicial leadership or a return to politics as usual?

5. To Governor Bobby Jindal of Louisiana: How could you even think of denying an expanded Medicaid program to your state's poorest residents?

The answer to #5 can't possibly be reassuring, yet it lies in the heart of too many heartless Americans.  We claim liberty and justice for all, but we don't come close.  

The Wizards of Oz

The Supreme Court justices remind me of the Wizard of Oz, hiding behind their robes and occasionally roaring at us.  This image couldn't have been stronger this week as we awaited their ruling on the Affordable Care Act and then learned of their decision.  Sing to the tune of "We're Off to See the Wizard."

We're waiting for the wizards to give us a piece of their mind
We hear they will decide the fate of health care for our time
These wizards, you see, I'm not sure why, can rule the land until they die
And in their rule they sit on high like God
And adjudicate the fate of all.
Dumb diddy dumb diddy dumb
We're waiting for the wizards to give us a piece of their mind.

We've now heard from the wizards who startled us all with their news
The head wizard he cast his lot with those who usually lose
He gave the President a win that's barely heard above the din
Of those who fear that Armageddon's near
And that we're becoming mere socialists.
Dumb diddy dumb diddy dumb
We've now heard from the wizards who startled us all with their news.

"The Scream"

That "The Scream" sold for nearly $120 million last night at Sotheby's seems fitting.  It is the symbol of our time, after all, and only increases in relevance as life grows more bizarre.  All you need to do is read the front page of any American newspaper or listen to the evening news, and you'll feel exactly like the figure in Edvard Munch's pastel.

Beneath the Robes

Recent studies suggest that the clothes we wear can affect our thought processes. Part of a larger body of research called embodied cognition, these studies attempt to understand whether clothes might alter how we interact with the world.

Which makes me wonder about our Supreme Court justices. What happens to them when they put on those impersonal, androgynous robes?

Perhaps such attire makes it easier for them to render decisions that seem, well, creepy--like the recent ruling that strip searches are OK for even minor offenders. Maybe when you don't dress like the rest of the world and look more like characters out of Harry Potter, you lose perspective.

Let's bring our justices into the 21st century and ditch the robes. Street clothes just might do wonders.

3 Ring Circus

So now the health care bill has moved to Ring #3, our august Supreme Court, which may overturn the work of Rings #1 and #2. Meanwhile, medical costs keep rising and more people lose health insurance. It's as if Washington fiddles while America burns. Here's a revised version of "Send in the Clowns" (with apologies to Judy Collins):

Isn't it rich?
Aren't we screwed?
Us here all the time paying bills
You in your robes. . .
Where are the clowns?

Isn't it strange?
Don't you agree?
One who keeps losing ground
One who won't budge. . .
But where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns.

Just when we'd hoped for a change
Finally thinking Americans would be insured.
Hoping for fairness for all in our usual way,
Sure of our rights. . .
No one is there.

Don't you love farce?
Your fault, we fear.
We thought that you'd want what we want. . .
Sorry, D.C.
But where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns
Don't bother, they're here.

Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer?
Not having insurance after all these years.
But where are the clowns?
There ought to be clowns. . .
Well, maybe next year.

Free Speech

Yesterday's Supreme Court ruling that protected hateful protests at military funerals brought home the gravity of our first amendment.

A caller on NPR's Talk of the Nation named Brian, whose brother died in the war on terrorism, explained what free speech means to him. Members of the Westboro Baptist Church showed up at his brother's funeral, he told listeners, but "the counter-protest of over 400 people completely muted anything they had to say . . . While personally it was very distressing and personally they crossed the line, I know that my brother was defending the Constitution. . . and I believe we need to keep it intact."

I especially appreciate our nation's freedoms--those that we often take for granted--when someone like Brian articulates what's at stake.